


I'll Surrender Up My Heart

by HatchetNoseGelphie



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Boss/Employee Relationship, F/F, Heart Attacks, Heart Disease, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Office Pranks, Oh also, SO, Security, Terminal Illness, also waverly is a secretary/receptionist, anxiety warning i guess, boss/employee AU, its a security company, let that be a psa, office workplace au, sassy copier machine, significant amounts of paper, the word 'office' will be written about 82027428849 million times, there will be some angst, toy trolls - Freeform, waverly has anxiety, waverly is bisexual because representation, whoops, you are not prepared for the amount of lesbians in this fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:21:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26361832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HatchetNoseGelphie/pseuds/HatchetNoseGelphie
Summary: Falling in love with your boss is hard.Falling in love with your boss when you're still discovering yourself and your boss has a terminal illness is even harder.Man, workplace romances can really be a bitch sometimes.
Relationships: Waverly Earp & Nicole Haught, Waverly Earp & Wynonna Earp, Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught, Wynonna Earp & Nicole Haught
Comments: 5
Kudos: 65





	I'll Surrender Up My Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Heart disease is a very, very serious illness that causes the suffering of hundreds of thousands of families every year. I'm not here to make light of heart disease, and I'm not here to romanticize it, either.
> 
> Another disclaimer: I very specifically chose not to put the major character death archive warning. Interpret this how you will, but I'm not going to lie to any of you. I'm not going to spoil, but I'm not going to lie.
> 
> Hello everyone! I've been toying with this fic for some time now and I really want to put it out there and see what everyone thinks. I've put all of my soul into this one, I think, so I'm hoping it can come to mean something to others the same way it means something to me. This fic is going to have some pretty heavy angst spots in it, as I'm sure you can imagine, but I'm intending for it to be generally pretty light throughout.
> 
> Although this fanfiction will include heart disease, I'll Surrender Up My Heart is about Wayhaught and friendship and living life to the fullest, and not about being ill.
> 
> The fic title is from Ed Sheeran's song, "Lego House"

_And sometimes I get nervous_

_When I see an open door_

_Close your eyes_

_Clear your heart_

_Cut the cord_

_\- "Human" by the Killers_

**x**

At twenty-one years of age, Waverly wasn’t too arrogant to admit that she had expected a bit more out of her adult life than to be a barmaid at the local bar, serving up booze to every sort of lowlife in the small town of Purgatory. She had been excited to work there in high school, and she’d be lying if she said the job hadn’t paid for her online courses like she wanted it to, but she had to confess to herself that, several years after being hired, she was tired of the place.

She was exhausted every time she had to shove Kyle York into the back of a cab once a week when he’d make the incredibly original decision to get smashed the night before his day off. She was bored of having to deal with the older men with lowered inhibitions that would grope at her and flirt mindlessly. She was weary with each regular occurrence of wiping the damn counter every time a beer was spilled and cleaning the damn toilet every time someone’s alcohol decided to make a reappearance. Mostly, though, she was tired of sitting in the same spot she was four years ago, with no accomplishments besides a couple of degrees that Purgatory couldn’t give her a decent job working with.

With a groan befitting a half-dead animal more than a young woman, she buried her head in her arms, propped up against the counter of the bar. Her long-time closest friend and confidant, Chrissy Nedley, offered a good-natured chuckle at her dramatics.

“You okay, Waves?”

A huff escaped her as Waverly lifted her head. “No, of course I’m not okay,” she muttered darkly. “I don’t wanna be here anymore. I just want to burn this damn t-shirt and be done with this place.”

Chrissy’s head nod was sympathetic. She was more aware than anyone else of the internal struggle Waverly faced regarding quitting her job over the past few months. “Have you looked into applying elsewhere?” she asked.

Truthfully, Waverly hadn’t. She had mentioned wanting to in the past, but there was a fine line between wanting to and actually doing. She was bored out of her wits with Shorty’s, but that didn’t mean that the unknown was any less frightening. Shorty’s was stupid and it was stagnant, but it was also familiar. How was she expected to simply uproot her life and plunge into the looming mass of unknown? No matter how it played out, very essential parts of her life would undergo change, and she rather wasn’t a fan of change. Never had been.

It was no easy feat for her to end the relationship with her high school sweetheart, Champ Hardy, a mere four months prior. She only did so at the constant, yet supportive insistence of Chrissy that an unfaithful and demanding boyfriend didn’t deserve her. His cuteness entirely irrelevant. Waverly remembered curling up in her bed the night that she did it, her cheeks streaked with tears that just kept coming. Not because she mourned the loss of the toxic relationship, but because the unknown got that little bit bigger. She never considered her options before, and while Champ was nice at first, she’d never known someone to make her heart sprout wings and soar like she read in those fancy romance novels.

But breaking up with Champ had shone a light, and opened her eyes to the idea that maybe she truly was worth more than being a trophy wife of some ungrateful bastard. Maybe she was worth more than serving up drinks and bussing tables for the remainder of her life. There were a million and one reasons why she was anxious, but foremostly, it was because she had spent her whole life asleep, and now, she was awake and able to actually live. She wanted to get out of Shorty’s, and she wanted to get out of Purgatory.

“Waves?” Chrissy’s concerned voice broke through her mental cloud like the sun itself. “I lost you for a bit there, didn’t I?” she said with a gentle smile.

Waverly gave a small shake of her head to clear away the pesky thoughts and anxieties and returned to her previous job of running a rag over the worn counter. She hadn’t felt motivated enough to clean properly the previous night, so she left with promises to her aunt that she would be in early the next day to remedy her lackluster effort.

“Sorry.”

“Where’d you go?”

“Somewhere. Anywhere. Away from here,” she listed with a sigh. She threw the rag aside – a sick feeling building in the pit of her stomach again – and ran a hand through the full length of her hair.

A pensive look crossed over her friend’s face. Chrissy opened her mouth, only to close it again shortly afterwards.

“What?” Waverly prompted impatiently.

“Well…” Chrissy dragged the word out, her perfectly manicured hands twisting together on the countertop in front of her. “I was only thinking that my office is looking for a new secretary. If that interests you. It’s a pretty easy job, and you’re so good with people that you’d fit in really well.”

Waverly couldn’t help but make a face at the suggestion. “You mean, your tech company?”

“We’re a security company, thank you very much. We have a tech branch, sure, but that doesn’t mean you have to do a lot of tech stuff.”

“I don’t know…” Waverly sighed, averting her gaze from the wide eyes her friend was shooting towards her. If she were honest with herself, she’d admit that it was, in a way, the perfect opportunity, but she knew dreadfully little about security.

Chrissy idly stirred the glass of water before her, watching the contents swirl. “It’s kind of a blast in the office,” she said as casually as she could muster. “My boss is kind of a crackhead.”

Waverly’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head in horror, and her mouth fell open briefly before she caught herself. “Your boss does _crack?_ In the office?”

“Oh, no!” Chrissy quickly backtracked upon realizing her mistake, her hands waving placatingly in front of her face. “She doesn’t actually _do_ crack at all. I don’t even think she drinks. I only meant that she’s got an insane amount of energy, and she makes working there interesting. It’s always something new with her.”

“Like Michael Scott?”

“She’s got a lot more sense than Michael Scott. She’ll play pranks around the office, but it’s really harmless, and she always apologizes profusely if she accidentally offends or something. She just likes to have fun, I think. She’s not… She’s…” Chrissy paused then, her head tilting to the side a little as she thought about it. “Okay, she’s kind of Michael Scott, but better. Nicer. More… mature about it. More human.”

Waverly hesitated then, retrieving her rag and pretending that the spotless counter still needed to be wiped down. She was exhausted with everything in her life, and here was Chrissy, offering up what had the potential to be a much, much better job – hell, maybe a better life – and Waverly remained frightened and unsure. Rationally, it was an easy decision, but she couldn’t bring herself to make it yet.

“So… What would I have to do?”

The grin that spread across Chrissy’s lips was triumphant, despite the fact that Waverly had yet to actually agree to anything. “It’s pretty easy stuff, like I said. Our old secretary’s moving in with her brother and sister. You’d mostly answer calls, handle the bosses’ schedules, fax and copy stuff. You’d be an overglorified office assistant, basically.”

“Bosses?” Waverly nitpicked, unable to fight the slight curiosity.

“Well - …yeah. I mean, we’ve got Nicole, the one I was telling you about, but we also have Dolls. She’s his supervisor, but they kind of co-run the office together?”

“That’s… Is that necessary?”

“She goes to a lot of out-of-state meetings. Right now, in fact, she’s on some big business trip in the U.K. for the next three weeks. He runs the office in her absence. He’d also be the one to hire you.”

Waverly drew her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed on it anxiously, her gaze fixed on her hands. She splayed them out against the counter of the bar. “I don’t know, Chrissy…” she said, more defeated than annoyed.

Chrissy’s dark eyes softened. “C’mon, Waves. I promise it’ll be fun. I know an office isn’t the whole shebang, but it’s a hell of a lot better than Shorty’s. You’ll like the people there.”

“Fine… If you get me an interview, I’ll show up,” Waverly relented, far too tired of fighting her best friend. She was even the tiniest bit excited about the prospect, to the point of which she _almost_ forgot her anxiety.

“Yay! I can’t wait!” was Chrissy’s overjoyed response.

A nervous energy thrummed through Waverly, and she clicked a pen over and over against her thigh as Chrissy parked the car outside the office building. Chrissy tutted lightly and took the pen away. “Relax, Waves. You’ve got a hell of an education, and you look great.”

“I’m not getting a career based on looks, Chrissy,” Waverly noted with an irritated roll of her eyes.

“Still, doesn’t hurt.”

Chrissy was strutting as she led her past the security guards and into the building, flashing a smile at the blushing male receptionist on the bottom floor. She beckoned Waverly over to the elevator, pausing briefly to punch a code into a keypad. “The main offices of this branch are on the third floor,” she explained to the brunette as they stepped into the arrived elevator. “The second floor is mostly storage. File cabinets and whatever. The first is reception, where we meet our clients. We don’t usually let them see our offices.”

“Well, it makes sense. This is a security company, right?”

“Right.”

“I’m…a bit surprised I’m even allowed up there,” Waverly admitted, her hands twisting together in anxiety.

“Eh. Dolls didn’t like it, but I assured him that you’re not a security threat. Plus, you’re probably gonna be working here anyway, so what’s the harm?”

“Maybe.”

“Probably.”

Mouth open and retort halfway to her lips, Waverly was promptly stopped by the elevator bell dinging. Immediately, the tension within her shoulders returned and she straightened up, her hands burying themselves fully in the folds of her royal blue skirt.

“Relax, Waves,” was Chrissy’s amused (and entirely unhelpful) comment as she beckoned her forward.

Chrissy pointed out the plain, front-and-center reception desk as the one that she’d use if she took the job. Waverly observed several desks scattered about the floor, some separated with partitions but the majority open and vulnerable. Most of the employees only bothered to spare her passing glances. It was only a blonde woman wearing more than the socially acceptable amount of makeup that completely abandoned her work to shoot her a nasty look.

“That’s Dolls’ office, go ahead and knock. He’ll like that you’re early,” Chrissy said to her, her voice quieter than normal to accommodate the general silence of the office.

Waverly’s legs felt like jelly as she approached the door. She took a deep breath. _He’s not a monster, Waverly. He’s not some fire-breathing dragon. He’s just an office manager_ , she thought to herself, feeling a bit silly for her nerves. She nodded to herself resolutely and knocked twice.

“Come in.”

She slipped inside the plain, sparsely decorated office. Her eyes swept briefly over the few personal items she saw – two certificates hanging on the wall and a small, potted plant lazing happily in the corner – before landing on the no-nonsense-looking man sitting behind the desk.

“Hello, Mr. Dolls, sir. I’m Waverly Earp,” she said as cheerfully as she could, forcing her feet to propel her forward. She only hesitated a moment before extending her hand in greeting.

The manager took it in a brief shake before retreating, as if the mere act of touching her was uncomfortable for him. “Take a seat, Miss Earp,” he commanded, and she instantly obeyed. He seemed cold, calloused. Not at all like she’d expected. It certainly did little for her anxiety. “First of all, what makes you want to work at H&P Security?”

Her hands folded themselves primly in her lap and she smiled as charmingly as she could. After all, like Chrissy said, her looks certainly didn’t hurt. “I’m looking to expand my horizons,” she explained. “I’ve lived in small-town Purgatory my whole life, and I’m looking for a new career where I can have the opportunity to grow and learn.”

It wasn’t a lie.

Dolls gave a small grunt and nodded, his attention focused on the files on his desk as he flipped through them. “It says here that you have a four-year degree in Ancient Cultures and Languages. Is that right?”

“Uh… Y-yes. Plus a minor in Western History and an associate’s in Latin History,” she added meekly.

“I’d say you’re overqualified for a secretary position, then. What’s your end goal, Miss Earp?”

That wasn’t the type of question Waverly had prepared for. Her shoulders rose in a small shrug. “I got those degrees so I could have more insight into my family’s history, and because they interest me. I suppose my end goal would be to work somewhere I can make a difference. Whether that’s as a secretary or a teacher or a museum curator doesn’t really matter, I guess.”

“A difference, Miss Earp?” he repeated in a flat tone, his eyebrows raised slightly.

“Y…Yes, sir. A difference.”

Dolls watched her with a cautious, searching eye. After almost a full minute, he nodded to himself once and turned back towards the files.

“So? How’d it go?”

“I got the job.”

Immediately, Chrissy’s face lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning and she squealed. Waverly had the sense to briefly thank god she’d waited until they were outside before giving the news. “Oh, Waverly, I’m so happy!” Chrissy cried, yanking the brunette into a bone-crushing hug. “When’s your first day.”

“Monday. It’s…” Waverly swallowed hard, her heart fluttering. “It’s enough time to quit Shorty’s for good.”

Chrissy pulled back from the hug, a face-splitting grin on her face. “Waverly Earp, I cannot _wait_ to work with you. This is gonna be so fun!”

Monday approached like a prowling tiger, and then pounced all too quickly. Waverly had spent the remainder of the week working at Shorty’s and nearly the entirety of the weekend stewing over her new job, dreading the moment she’d actually have to go in. It wasn’t learning her new duties, nor was it learning the lay of the office that terrified her. She just feared not _knowing_. Her whole life had been spent learning so that she could no, so that no one could possibly make her feel little or stupid like some people would when she was a child. No one could say that she was nothing but another worthless, unlucky Earp because she’d have something they didn’t.

Knowledge.

Her heart had taken up permanent residence in her throat as she drove to the office, attempting (wholly unsuccessfully) to stick her mind on her sister’s words of encouragement rather than the fact that she was leaping blindly into the big, wide unknown.

Fortunately for her, Chrissy was waiting outside the office building when she arrived. She waved cheerfully as she saw the red Jeep pull into the parking lot. She led the brunette inside and relayed the security code for the elevator – _010590_ – before riding up beside her. Chrissy started with a mini-tour of the office, showing her each mini-department within the branch.

Waverly was introduced to everyone in the office, but the most memorable were Perry Crofte, John Henry Holliday, and Samantha Baker of the sales staff, Stephanie Jones of human resources (who, she noted somewhat petulantly, was the same blonde who shot her unbidden dirty looks the other day), the office administrator – Rosita Bustillos – and Jeremy Chetri in the IT department.

Waverly’s predecessor, Beth Gardner, was there, and she shortly explained some of the details, as well as how to work the fax machine (since Waverly, embarrassingly, had never used one before). At one point, she beckoned Waverly over to the copier machine on the other side of reception, patting it affectionately.

“His name is Bobo,” Beth said matter-of-factly, as if it were completely normal for an office copier to have a name. “He gets grumpy sometimes, but he really likes swans. We always keep some origami ones here, in this drawer. If he doesn’t cooperate with you, just wave a swan around a bit. He likes that.”

All Waverly could do was nod dumbly and accept it as her new reality that the copier she’d be using extensively throughout her shifts was a fan of swans.

Overall, Beth seemed to approve of her taking her position in the office. She even offered a rare smile at the end of the presentation before leaving Waverly to survey her reception domain like an empress.

The clock read half past one when she was able to actually start work. Introductions, tours, and instruction all finally finished. She found it was a simple job, like Chrissy had stated on multiple occasions. It was, however, mildly irritating when people would demand she make copies for them, as if she were the only person in the office capable of using the copier. Bobo didn’t work for her at first, but after she put one of his swans on top of him, he was more accommodating of her task. Making copies was in her job description, so she couldn’t deny her coworker’s demands or insist anyone make their own copies, but it didn’t lessen how obnoxious the trek from the reception desk to the copier was.

When her phone rang a mere hour shy of the workday ending, she was quick to put the file she’d been reading through to the side so that she could answer it and give the client her full attention. “Thank you for calling H&P Security, Waverly speaking. How may I help you?”

She heard a small, almost strangled-sounding noise on the other end of the line, and the caller clearly tried to cover it up with a cough. “Oh,” the woman said, her voice incredibly soft, and then cleared her throat. “Uh, sorry. I was expecting Beth. I forgot that she, um, left.”

Waverly couldn’t help but cock her head curiously at this mysterious caller. “Yes, Miss Gardner left last week. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Can you just patch me through to Xavier? Er, Mr. Dolls, I guess.”

Having not been under the permission that clients knew the names of anyone besides their sales agent, especially not the name of the office manager – this was a security company, after all, right? – Waverly blinked a few times in stunned silence before answering. “May I ask who I’m speaking to?” she asked slowly. “Mr. Dolls is very busy at the moment, I’m sure one of our other company employees can help.”

“Uh, no. Sorry, I –…no. I really… I need to talk to Dolls. He’s kind of the only one that can help,” the pretty voice said. “Miss Waverly,” she added as an afterthought.

“…Alright. I’m still new here, though, so is it alright if I go check with him?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. No problem.”

Once the mystery caller was on hold, Waverly walked out from behind the reception desk, her stomach flopping like a fish out of water. The company itself wasn’t so scary anymore, but Dolls still sort of was. She hesitated before knocking on his office door, steeling herself for interrupting whatever he was doing because he had a call from a potential… she didn’t even know, honestly. She inhaled deeply and knocked.

“Enter,” came his cold command.

She opened the door barely enough to fit through it, smiling about as confidently as she could in spite of the anxiety gripping her like a vice. “Mr. Dolls, sir? I’ve got a woman on the line who’s insisting she speak to you. She won’t say why, or who she is,” she explained, altogether too quickly.

Dolls’ shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch and his eyes rolled, which was more emotion from him than she’d witnessed thus far. “Send her through,” he sighed heavily, and then muttered something under his breath that she couldn’t quite catch. It wasn’t her place anyway, she figured.

Waverly didn’t waste any time before nodding and scuttling back to her desk. She told the woman briefly that he approved the call before doing as told and patching her through to his extension. She didn’t miss the way that he closed the blinds to his office before taking the call, and it did nothing to assuage her curiosity about the woman.

Chrissy was up and at reception in less than a minute, abandoning her own desk in the sales cluster. “Who was that?” she demanded, her eyebrows raised in interest.

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “She kept insisting to talk to Dolls. She called him by his first name, too, I think. Is his first name Xavier?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Okay, then yeah, she called him by his first name. She was… I don’t know, awkward too? I think I took her off guard.”

“Ooh! I bet it was Nicole, calling from the U.K. to check on us,” Chrissy gasped, her dark eyes bright with excitement, showing off the flecks of gold within. “The office is so _dead_ when she’s not here. Some of the old-timers say it’s only once every year or two that she goes on this long of a business trip.”

“That’s the other manager, right? How long has she been gone?”

“Yup! Nicole’s technically the official regional manager. She’s been gone for five weeks already, which sucks because everyone loves her. Everyone.”

Waverly’s eyes narrowed in thought and she let out a low, noncommittal hum. “Well, I’m not convinced from my brief conversation with her.”

“You’ll come around,” Chrissy assured her knowingly. “I’m pretty sure it’s impossible to _not_ like her. Just wait. You’ll join the Haught Cult in no time.”

“Th-the _what?_ ” Waverly managed all while gracefully choking on her own spit.

Chrissy tilted her head in confusion, mentally running over what she’d said. When she realized her friend’s meaning, she burst into laughter. “No, no! Haught. It’s her last name,” she said through her peals of laughter. “H-A-U-G-H-T. Haught.”

“Nicole Haught?” Waverly tried it out, and despite herself, she couldn’t help but like the way it rolled off her tongue like candy.

“Mhm.”

A small, very sapphic voice in the back of Waverly’s head wondered if Nicole fit her name, but that was a silly thought, so she dismissed it quickly. She was decidedly _not_ in the market for a relationship, regardless of her newfound attraction to girls that she’d discovered shortly before dumping her childhood boy-man. Two things that were completely unrelated, she would tell anyone who asked. Which, really only Chrissy knew about her attraction to girls, and she luckily hadn’t put two and two together yet.

“You know, Waves,” Chrissy said then, and her tone was entirely too innocent for her intentions to truly be innocent. Her lower lip disappeared between her teeth and she played with the edge of a folder, waiting until she had her best friend’s attention before continuing.

Unfortunately for her, Waverly knew Chrissy like the back of her hand, and she recognized that look and that tone all too well. “ _No_ , Chrissy. I’m not interested in the boss,” she hissed, praying no one overheard the improper suggestion.

“Mm. You say that now, but once you meet her, you might change your tune…”

Waverly rolled her eyes irritably, opening her mouth to further deny the suggestion. She felt relief wash through her when the phone rang again, interrupting her. “Thank you for calling H&P Security, Waverly speaking. How may I help you?” she said sweetly into the phone while sending Chrissy a pointed look.

With a dramatic sigh, Chrissy valiantly accepted the defeat and stalked back to her own desk, leaving Waverly alone to deal with the caller and send him off to the right agent.

(It was Rosita).

Waverly’s first week ended up being mostly uneventful, and Chrissy was adamant that it was all due to the distinct lack of Nicole. Dolls was stoic and quiet, and he often didn’t care for being disturbed, so many calls weren’t sent his way. She quickly learned everyone’s names and extensions so she could patch callers through effectively.

At the end of the work week, Dolls had shot her a small, tight smile and told her that she did good so far. It was a strange comment, and it seemed very out of character for him. Judging by the look on Chrissy’s face, it was, in fact, out of character. That only made Waverly grin bigger. She was still beaming about the compliment by the time she got home that evening.

Tuesday morning of the following week had started relatively normal, she supposed. The office employees arrived at nine in the morning, and the office was quiet enough for Waverly to hear the crickets, and it was slow enough for her to wonder how crickets even got up to the third floor. The elevators, maybe? The stairs? That seemed an awful long journey for something so small.

Again, it had started relatively normal, but around eleven-thirty, a few minutes shy of lunch break, the door was slammed open.

In swaggered perhaps one of the most stunning, breathtaking people that Waverly ever had the honor of seeing in her life.

The woman’s hips confidently swung from side to side as she sauntered into the office, throwing her hands up into the air and whooping. She was wearing sunglasses low on her nose, and she took them off, tossing them aside carelessly and revealing bright chocolate eyes. Fiery red hair framed her face, covering her ears and cutting off just below her jaw while simultaneously accentuating her strong jawline.

“Rejoice, peasants, for I have returned!” she announced. Her bag was thrown aside as she used a chair to step up onto one of the empty desks. “Rejoice, for your queen has arrived,” she added with a flourishing bow.

There was a scattering of both laughter and light applause through the office, and it took a solid few seconds for Waverly to remember to close her goddamned mouth so she didn’t look like a fish – or worse, the swooning bisexual she truly was. _Anything, Your Majesty_ , a pathetic voice in her head simpered, unbidden.

The woman was beaming, dimples popping gorgeously, as she climbed back down from the desk. “Is everyone ready for things to get Haught again?” she teased while sauntering through the office. Her eyes landed on Waverly and she didn’t even bother to hide her gasp. “You must be Miss Earp!” she cried, nearly running over to the reception desk and hopping up onto it.

_Yup, she’s definitely gonna be on something to have this much energy._

“I… Uh… Y-yes, I’m just Waverly though,” she managed after almost a solid minute of gay panic because _holyshitsheissoprettyandsheissocloseandsheistalkingtomeandholyshit_.

The redhead only grinned wider and invaded the reception area to grab her hand without it being offered. She shook it firmly before letting it fall limply back to its owner’s lap again. “Pleasure to meet you, Just-Waverly-Though,” she said with a flirty wink. “I’m Nicole. Nicole Haught.”

Waverly absolutely couldn’t help the blush that rose to her cheeks (also unbidden), and she swallowed hard past the growing lump in her throat. “N-nice to meet you. You’re, uh, you’re the main manager of this hot? I-I mean _office_. Y-you’re the main manager of this… _office_ …”

If she had thought anything of the blunder, then Nicole did not show it, the expression on her face confident but also open and kind, her smile even growing a bit. “Yes, I am, though don’t think of me as a boss, Miss Waverly. I’d rather you thought of me as a – “

“Haught.”

Instantly, that radiant smile fell off of Nicole’s face. She straightened up and turned towards where Dolls was standing outside of his office with a stony look on his face. She sighed and hung her head in resignation before kicking off of the reception desk and walking over to him. “I’ll do this, Dolls, but we’re doing it in _my_ office,” she declared, not waiting for a response before turning on her heel towards the other door, which Waverly hadn’t been through yet, and unlocking it.

Dolls shot the rest of the office an intense look, silently warning not to try to listen in. After the solid non-verbal talking-to had been completed, he followed Nicole into the office and closed the blinds.

Waverly fell back into her chair and blinked a few times in a mixture of surprise and confusion. “Whoa,” she said under her breath, allowing herself a couple of moments to revel in the fact that _Jesus fudging Christ, her boss was absolutely gorgeous_ before snapping herself out of it and getting back to work.

“What are you _thinking_ , Haught?”

Nicole didn’t even get the luxury of sitting her ass down in her chair before Dolls was reaming her with all he had. At least he had the forethought to close the blinds and lock the door so they couldn’t possibly be interrupted as he laid into her like she was a five year-old kid with her hand caught in the proverbial cookie jar. She figured the metaphor wasn’t too far off. If, you know, the cookie jar was actually defying doctors’ orders and the five year-old kid was actually a twenty-six year old woman with a defective heart.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she shot back petulantly (like a child) as she sat down. She let out a relaxed breath and ran her hands lovingly over the arms of her chair. “Oh, how I’ve missed you, baby,” she cooed to it.

She jumped nearly a foot in the air when he pointedly slammed his hand down on her desk, looking altogether not in the mood to deal with her deflection. She winced at the strain on her still-healing breastbone and rubbed it absently. “You weren’t supposed to be back until next week,” he pointed a stiff finger at her.

Nicole rolled her eyes (like a child) and began opening and closing drawers, trying to make it look like she was actually doing something. “I was feeling better, okay?”

“Did your doctors clear you to come back?”

“’Did your doctors clear you?’” she mocked (like a child), her nose wrinkled pettily. “Come on, Xavier. I’m not a child. I know when I’m feeling better, and I’m telling you, I’m feeling better.”

He snorted, one eyebrow raised. It was obvious that he was completely convinced. Not. “I’m sure Doctor Kate would have an aneurysm if she saw that little act you did out there. Jumping up on the desk. You say you’re not a child, but you act like one.”

“I do not!” she argued.

_(Like a child)._

With a frustrated huff, she looked away from her best friend of over twenty years. “Kate doesn’t need to know about any of that,” she insisted quietly.

“Mhm, so I _shouldn’t_ call her and tell her?”

One of her hands shot out and latched onto his wrist right as he started to turn away. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, presenting the biggest puppy dog eyes she could manage. “Come on, Xavier,” she implored softly. “I was bored out of my mind. I hate bedrest. Look, I promise I won’t jump around anymore. I was just so bored and _lonely_ and…” her cheeks puffed as she blew out a breath.

He softened a fraction – so subtly that no one would notice if they hadn’t known him for so many years. “This was not you getting the flu, Nicole,” he reminded her, but his voice was a bit quieter than before. Less angry.

“Might as well have been. God knows it’s happened enough,” she attempted to joke, but it fell flat.

“You had a heart attack. That’s not something you should take lightly.”

She leaned back in her precious chair with a sigh, turning her face upwards to stare at the ceiling. “And I’m not taking it lightly, X, I promise. I got… I don’t know, overexcited, and goddamn, did you see the new secretary?” she asked, letting out a low whistle and smiling at the fluttering in her chest as she thought of the pretty brunette.

Usually, her heart fluttering was cause for concern, but she couldn’t help but like it this time, knowing what had caused it. Or rather, who.

Dolls touched her shoulder briefly, enough for her to know he understood, even if he didn’t agree. “You know that’s not a good idea, Haught,” he reasoned.

“I’m not gonna do anything!” she defended herself, her hands flying frantically into the air. “Of course I know it’s not a good idea. I mean… Kate said I’ve got about a year left if I’m lucky. I’m not gonna _seduce_ the secretary and then up and die on her. I’m already fucking dying on you and Rosita and Mom.”

“The difference is that we’ve known for a lot longer.”

“Doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Speaking of, have you told your mother about your new life expectancy?”

Groaning at the reminder, Nicole let her head fall forward. It hit her desk with a dull _thud_. “I’ve still gotta do that. Don’t remind me,” she grumbled.

“She has a right to know,” he pointed out gently in a tone that was generally only reserved for her and Rosita.

“God, Dolls, I know. Would _you_ want to go up to your mother and say, ‘hey, Mom! You know how the doctors said I was doing well and had, like, five more years left? Well, this past heart attack was really fucking awful, and now they think I only have one year left! Hurray! Enough about me, though, how’s your Pilates class?’”

Dolls shrugged, completely unhelpful. “It doesn’t have to go like that.”

“Yeah? How do you think it’ll go, then?”

He stood up straight, rolling his shoulders briefly and putting that same mask of neutrality and indifference on. “You’ve got more control than you think, Nicole,” he said cryptically, and with that, he nodded his goodbye and stalked back to his own office to resume work.

“Ass,” she muttered affectionately under her breath, left alone to stew in her own angst again. The wood of her desk felt nice and cool on her forehead. She decided she’d stay like that for a while longer.

She supposed she should have expected this. She was lucky she lived to be twenty-six when the initial expectancy was that she wouldn’t live to graduate high school, much less start a career and run an office. It wasn’t quite what she wanted to do if given a choice, but with limited options, she’d take what she’d get.

However, like she’d mentioned before, her being fortunate enough to survive so long didn’t make anything any easier. Especially not with that pretty new secretary in the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a busy, full-time college student, after all. I figure we'll just play it by ear for these first few chapters and I'll try my best to establish weekly, but if that's not possible, it'll probably be biweekly updates.
> 
> Shoutout to my two amazing betas, Mvphoenix (soon to get an ao3!) and Sian (apersonofmanywords on Tumblr)
> 
> If you want, feel free to hit me up at ive-got-a-taser (dot) tumblr (dot) com. My messages and ask box are always open!
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos below to let me know if you'd like to see more of this fic :)


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